


only one, forever

by bucklinbarnes



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematc Universe RPF
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-04-12 03:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucklinbarnes/pseuds/bucklinbarnes
Summary: a real connection between two hopeless romantics; a decade in the making.





	1. here we are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Sebastian have that talk about a particular disappointing film’s ending.

“I should’ve said something.”

Chris is staring down at the ground, eyes unmoving from a patch of moss clinging to the dirt floor outside. The woods surrounding the lake are nice, peaceful even. But they aren’t enough to calm his unsteady heart. The directors have called cut, and so Chris and Sebastian are finished filming for the day. The scene in particular, was Steve Rogers’ final moment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe; a stern conversation between he and Bucky, followed by a passing of the mantle to Sam. Chris itches at his neck, where he had removed the elderly prosthetic and makeup just minutes before. Chris, among few others, read the _Avengers:_ _Endgame_ script in its entirety, known the ending all along, but Seb didn’t. He didn’t know until they shot it today.

“You couldn’t, I understand. Spoilers, secrecy, lawsuits.” Sebastian replies, shuffling his feet, soft and tired. Like he did when he’d said _you’re_ _taking_ _all_ _the_ _stupid_ _with_ _you_. Like he did when he’d said _I’m_ _gonna_ _miss_ _you_. “I just wish I could’ve... known.”

“Yeah.” Chris sighs, helpless and drowning in guilt.

“Yeah.” Sebastian echoes. “ _God_.” His abrupt exasperation surprises Chris, and gives him no choice but to look back up at him.

The agitated look on Seb’s face, the creased line between his furrowed brows, he’s to blame.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Chris isn’t exactly sure what he’s apologizing for, but he hopes it helps.

Sebastian takes a deep breath. “I guess it was pointless of me to try to get them to change it, right?”

Chris grows weary. It’s true, before they called action, he witnessed Sebastian approaching the Russos with heavy concern: wondering where the rest of the dialogue was, why this last exchange between characters whom were lifelong friends was cut to one of acquaintances. And like clockwork the only response he received was, _it_ _already_ _happens_ _offscreen_. Nothing is worse than watching disappointment take place on Sebastian’s face.

“No, no I—,” Chris tries to offer sympathy. “I asked them about it too... But y’know, it’s _Marvel_.”

“Sure is.” Sebastian shakes his head in disbelief, and feigns a chuckle. “Man. Is it just me, or is their directing style starting to seem fucking crazy?”

Chris smiles. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“It’s good to have optimism sometimes.” Sebastian teases. His hidden compliments never fail to light Chris up inside.

“I’m too trusting.”

“And I don’t trust enough. Sounds like a perfect match.” Sebastian smiles back, albeit a bit self-deprecatingly. They have that habit in common. But it feels loving nonetheless. Sebastian may not trust many, but he trusts Chris. And that’s enough – more than enough.

Chris looks around where they’ve been speaking, keeping an eye out for cast or crew nearby. Birds chirp in the distance somewhere. He starts to think this is really something they should be discussing in private. In a rush, he hastily grabs hold of Sebastian’s wrist, dragging him the short distance from the lot to his trailer. Sebastian watches him patiently as he lets himself get pulled inside.

“I really am sorry. I wanted to tell you.” Chris says quietly, with intent.

Sebastian nods – he looks so drained. Chris wants to pull him into an embrace, but resists. “I believe you. And I’m not upset with you, at least.. not anymore.”

The fact that Seb was upset at all feels like an open wound to Chris, even though said event was inevitable, and preventing it higher than Chris’ pay grade. 

“Still hurts.” Chris states, not bothering to ask.

“Still hurts.” Sebastian confirms, not unkindly. He takes a step toward Chris. The trailer feels so small now. “There was so much I wish we got to say.”

“Me too.”

“Not only for Bucky and Steve, but.. for you and me. I wanted—“ Sebastian trails off, his round grey eyes shining in the low light. Unshed emotions build there that he rarely allows himself to show. They’ve been on this journey together for so long, developing a friendship onscreen, and mirroring that in real life. And more – Chris can’t imagine life without this man.

“Seb-“

“It’s been ten years. I wanted to have a proper ending – a goodbye.” Sebastian’s voice is barely a whisper now. He doesn’t mean to get worked up about something so trivial. It both frightens Chris and amazes him; how someone can be so vulnerable in the blink of an eye. And beautiful all the same.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Chris raises a hand to Sebastian’s bicep, squeezing, comforting. The all black outfit suits Seb really well, and the long hair from the Bucky wig even more flattering, he has to remind himself that that isn’t important right now.

Sebastian holds his gaze for a long minute. He knows Chris would never have ill intentions, and he’s familiar first-hand with the amount of generosity and kindness living inside his heart. Chris’ eagerness to help others – to put them above his own ego and tear himself down in the process of lifting everyone around him up – it’s one of the reasons Sebastian _loves_ him so much. When he replies, his voice cracks halfway through, while still maintaining his frustration. “I wanted this past decade to mean something.”

Something in Chris’ chest aches right then; it’s a pain that sinks its claws in deep, and gnaws at his soul. “It does. You mean something to me.” Chris laughs lightly, halfway in a stage of panic. “A lot, actually.” _Everything_ , _you_ _mean_ _everything_.

Sebastian senses Chris’ anxiety, like an instinctual thing, and reaches for the handresting on his shoulder, guiding it up to the crook of his neck. Chris curls his fingers around it and plays with the ends of Sebastian’s hair. That alone visibly lifts Seb’s spirits.

“It’s just too bad my character never got to hear that from yours. But, hey. He’s got Sam. He’ll be ok eventually.” Sebastian muses thoughtfully.

“You and Mackie are bound to stir up trouble.” Chris adds.

He never thought he’d have to watch their characters suffer this much. Despite it all being fictional, and Chris definitely knows that, the sorrowful expression on the man standing before him was still there. It was present in the room watching him after he said _don’t_ _do_ _anything_ _stupid_ _until_ _I_ _get_ _back_. The lines should’ve felt nostalgic and like satisfying closure; the final turn of the key in the lock, the last stunning firework in a show. But he instead finished the scene with a bad taste in his mouth. _You’re_ _happy_ _for_ _him_ is how the director duo had instructed Seb. But Sebastian Stan is clever, talented as hell, and nuanced in a way that only years of experience in films with a poor excuse for a speaking role can do. And so the words that fell from Sebastian’s mouth were written to be happy, yes, but they also dripped with despair; matching a pair of eyes on a face that called out desperately into the void for Steve to stay.

Chris owes him immensely for his devotion. He’s convinced that Sebastian is half the reason why their trilogy was so successful. Maybe more if he’s being totally honest. Sebastian is one of the most rare people Chris has ever met, the kind to do so much for so little in return. It continuously inspires him and pushes him forward. Together they’re like the opposite ends of a puzzle; two pieces that just fit. Unbeknownst to Marvel, chemistry and symbiosis and pure magic, what have you, had manifested out of nowhere: blossoming and glowing, born out of adecade long affection, just waiting for the opportunity to be explored beneath the surface. And for their franchise to rip them apart simply because it was overwhelming and unplanned? It’s impossible to do such a thing without making a mess, leaving torn seams in the wake of it all, and they both knew that. It’s hard to ignore how many scenes between them were shortened, how many interactions onscreen were cut out entirely in recent films. Chris couldn’t even manage to put his full strength into the final scene; it felt wrong and unnatural, like his body was rejecting every second of the camera as it was rolling. For the first time in years, maybe even before First Avenger, he felt lost.

“It must’ve been tough. Not being able to tell anyone.” Sebastian murmurs. His own arms wrap around Chris’ waist. He’s worried about Chris just as much as Chris is about him, and that provides minor relief. It may be common knowledge, but it’s not often recognized how much Sebastian cares; about people, about his roles, about the stories he’s telling.

“I hated it. You didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark, it’s just cruel.” Chris blurts, unable to contain his irritation, though not directing it at Seb in any way.

“They knew I’d be mad.” Sebastian points out.

Chris brings his other hand up to join the one cradling Sebastian’s face. “And you have every right to be. How could I not say that I’d miss you back?”

“I couldn’t even hug you like we always do. It didn’t feel right. And they’d probably ask for a reshoot anyway.” Chris can’t argue with that, all their onscreen hugs have been short embraces, pats to the back, one-armed and uncommitted. “I can only hope they won’t use this version for the final cut. But something tells me they will.”

Sebastian purses his lips and bites the inside of his cheek. A habit, Chris knows – and he recognizes when it means Seb is stressed out.

“No matter what anyone tries to tell you, Bucky is still my boy. Always and forever. I promise you that.” Chris insists with a grin. “ _Soft_ _spot_.”

Sebastian tries to hold back a laugh, and fails. He looks down at his feet bashfully before looking up at Chris again. “Why do you always have to be so funny. It gets really exhausting.” It’s an empty complaint.

“This isn’t goodbye for us, you know that right? Because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.” Chris assures gently.

“Yeah.” Sebastian answers, just a bit breathless. He takes the opportunity to wrap Chris into a full hug. “Thank god.”

Nothing brings better ease and warmth to Chris’ bones than this, he’s sure of it. Sebastian’s muscled form melts into his as they deeply breathe each other in. Seb loses himself in Chris’ scent, glad he doesn’t need an oversized stolen sweater to get the same desired effect of safety right now.

“If it’s any consolation, I quit.” Chris mumbles, voice conspiratorially low, face pressed into Seb’s shoulder. He gets another laugh for that one.

“I hate you.” The broad smile Chris feels against his skin lets him know that’s far the truth. “But, if they do ask you back for cameos, please come... I already miss you really bad. And I don’t care if I only get to see you in your Clint Eastwood form, I’ll take what I can get.”

Maybe it’s just the closer proximity, but Sebastian appears to let his walls down, and even seems needy, pleading with his request this time. Chris rubs his shoulder blades in slow circular motions.

“You don’t have to miss me, I’m right here.”

“Not close enough.” Sebastian exhales shakily. His hands get tangled in the fabriccovering the small of Chris’ back.

Chris’ smile stretches even wider. They’re already as close as can be; chest to chest, but he’s not unfamiliar with the desire to crawl into someone else until you can no longer breathe, to become one whole instead of two separate halves of it, to never want to forget what it’s like to be together when thousands of miles stretch you apart. “C’mere then.”

Sebastian takes half a step back to be able to look at Chris’ face again, only to be met with overflowing adoration waiting for him there. Chris is an eye contact addict, Seb’s presence in his life made that a permanent thing. His light irises are crystal clear water; the sea after a storm that calm Chris’ own dark blue speckled green. Sebastian runs the tip of his nose over his, then delicately across his cheek, tilting his head just so. Chris’ long eyelashes flutter closed as they kiss. It’s slow and it’s real and it’s _home_. He could do this every day for the rest of his life, no hesitation about it. Chris had decided that long ago.

And Sebastian was right. When they pull back, it’s not enough, it _never_ is – they both can feel that, and it’s Chris who initiates the next all-consuming kiss. He cards his fingers through Seb’s beard while it scrapes delicately over his clean shaven face. The once featherlight press of lips becomes unrestrained, and makes Seb’s heart swell in his chest. There’s time for passion later, but right now it just feels so nice – to hold and to be _held_ – to be safe in each other’s strong arms.

“I just can’t imagine doing all of this without you.” Seb says a while later, lips still lingering on Chris’ neck after traveling there.

“I’ll come visit you in Atlanta. I need an excuse to pick on Mackie. And I’ve grown fond of sweltering hot weather.” Chris rasps in his ear.

“You sure you’re not just fond of _me?_ ”

“Nah. You’re just a bro.”

Sebastian chuckles.

“But I’ll be there.” Chris promises. He starts to leave his own trail of pressed lips on Seb’s neck as well. “The show will be so good. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Sebastian blushes at his reply and the tickling sensation. “Thanks.”

Chris turns his head to grin at him and rub noses in an eskimo kiss again. He can’t help it when every time, Seb scrunches his nose in the way that he does; eyes squeezed shut. He pokes at the crinkles forming at the edges, softly tracing laughlines.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

“Hmm?” Seb hums at him curiously.

“You, me, dodger: nap.” Chris declares. The bags under his eyes, drooping from fatigue are there to back him up.

Seb smiles happily, eyelids already halfway closed as he leans into the warm chest in front of him. “Hell yeah.”


	2. he can walk through fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anxiety sucks

It was just a regular morning. Nothing on the agenda that day. The sunrise came on time and with it, the bustling white noise of cars and commotion in Soho, New York. Up above it all laid the two of them – in the soft comfort of their bed.

Yet, no matter how comfortable you are – or how safe you thought you felt – your brain doesn’t always listen or even care.

As he wakes, Chris notices it right away.

A shortness of breath, a tightness pulling at his chest, a dizzy sensation in his head. He had a panic attack in his sleep. Well, he’s still having it, but yeah. It’s not good. Not his ideal alarm clock. He blinks in the surroundings of the right side of Sebastian’s apartment bedroom, squinting. Fuck his head hurts.

Chris’ I-just-woke-up-and-therefore-still-am-functioning-very-slowly thought process almost makes his anxiety skyrocket when for a moment, his brain shouts: _where_ _is_ _Seb?!?_

He manages to clumsily flip himself so that he instead faces the left side, rather than the wall. It’s an instant relief to see Sebastian physically sleeping there, like normal, not suddenly abandoning Chris and nothing catastrophic happening to him. Each were completely dramatic, the logical Chris knew, but his apocalyptic-mode brain didn’t.

Heart beating heavily still, Chris begins to notice hints of nausea and full-bodied pains making their entrance. It’s not his first rodeo by far, and so he just keeps still. Eyes locked on Sebastian’s calm, resting form. He’s here with him, Chris reminds himself. _This_ _is_ _normal_ , _this_ _is_ _ok_ , _you’re_ _ok_ , _no_ _one_ _can_ _hurt_ _you_ , _you’re_ _not_ _a_ _bad_ _person_.

As he repeats the mantra in his head, he’s too focused to notice Sebastian wake up, lean closer to him, and swipe a warm thumb over his cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?” It hits Chris then and there that he’s started to cry, cold tears leaving his bloodshot eyes.

He trembles at how kind and gentle Seb treats him, first thing in the morning. When it’s not past 7am and he’s already a weeping wreck for no apparent reason. The worst thing maybe, is that Chris can’t even bare to answer Seb; his throat closing up on him and activating his emotional state even further, as guilt is added to the pile.

And maybe that shows on his face, or Seb just knows him that well, because he doesn’t look bothered in the slightest.

“Is it...” Sebastian’s rough sleepy voice trails off. He frowns thoughtfully for a second while searching Chris’ face, and seemingly finds the answer he’s looking for. Chris squints his eyes shut tight. Everything is all too much right now. Sebastian sighs sadly, his eyes so wide, “Oh– baby, it’s ok.”

Not surprisingly, Chris’ bottom lip quivers in response. Seeing anyone else upset makes _Chris_ upset, especially the guy he _loves_ _so_ _much_ , and now he’s made it so they’re _both_ upset, and _shit_.

Chris makes another attempt to calm down, although he currently feels as though he’s dying – suffocating – even while knowing he’s not. Committing all of Sebastian’s face to memory becomes his next initiative, in order to distract himself. Big eyes, equally grey and blue, crinkles at the edges, dark lashes, straight slender nose—

“Hey,” Seb tries, worried and requesting his attention. “I’m here. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Chris huffs, distraught and confused, “I’m sorry.”

Seb doesn’t know what else to do besides shake his head. “ _Chris_ ,” he pleads kindly, “look at me... I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Staring at him directly, Chris nods. Seb gets even closer this time, his face just a breath away, cupping his hand around Chris’ jaw.

“Breathe. Just like we practiced.”

Chris’ breath hitches at the words. He fights against his natural response – to hyper-ventilate at an increased rate – and follows Seb blindly. Seb’s got him.

Inhale through the nose for 5 seconds, hold for 5, exhale slowly out the mouth for 10.

It gets easier and easier, the longer Seb gazes into Chris’ eyes, his warm palms shifting back and forth to soothe him. Sebastian’s still doing the coping technique along with him – not missing a beat – like he, too, needs a reminder to relax.

At some point, Chris lets out a considerable sigh of air, sounding tired but oh-so relieved at the same time. Like he’s finally been freed from what was strangling him. Vulnerable, Chris drops his face down low to lean into Seb’s neck: his safe space. Sebastian releases a similar sigh that holds the same sense of relief.

He hates seeing Chris like this, especially when he doesn’t know how to help, or if he can at all. Chris, as the poets would say, is Sebastian’s entire heart. He’d walk to the ends of the earth for him. Seb whispers various forms of those loving sentiments in Chris’ ear, meaning every word: promising to catch stars and buy the moon and give him the world.

The relationship they have is so precious to Chris, so tender, that he wants to hold it to his heart and never let go. Chris doesn’t fully understand why, but it feels as though he’s found the person he’s always wanted to be with. It’s almost like they’re a dream and a gift to each other, and can’t believe they’ve come into each other’s lives.

He can’t help but wonder what he’s done in this life – or even his past ones – to deserve such a beautiful person. He’s far from perfect and can barely sort through his own mind most days.

Seb kisses his forehead, featherlight. “Getting better?”

“Mmm.”

Caressing his back, cooing softly, shushing him, Seb hums in response.

No one, past lover or his own mother, has ever held Chris this way. Generous and unselfish, fond, with every touch softer than he’s ever known. Tears almost spring to his eyes again for an entirely different reason.

“You’re so strong, you have no idea how much.” Sebastian murmurs into his hair. Chris knows, despite the obvious view, that he’s not talking about physical strength. “I admire that about you every day.”

Chris hugs him closer.

They’re silent for minutes, maybe hours, maybe a lifetime: floating in the heavenly embrace of who they love.

“Seb?” Chris questions shyly, under his breath. Sebastian buries his nose deeper into soft hair. “Yeah, babe?” He whispers back, tone gentle and patient and everything Chris needs. “I love you so much.”

Suddenly, the storm clouds are gone, the brain-noise has faded, and the warmth of the sun in the form of Seb’s smile comes in as they drift back into a dreamless sleep, as he blissfully repeats it back.

Sometimes he’s not ok, and that’s ok.

Because Chris is _healing_ , and Sebastian is breaking down his own walls, and the desire to provide and care for one another till the world ends – that’s mutual.

 


End file.
